


sentimental pessimism

by fideliahoney



Series: step into my life [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Boys In Love, Fluff, Late Night Conversations, Light Angst, M/M, This is now a series, lots of talking, yanghyuck reign supreme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:00:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28313460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fideliahoney/pseuds/fideliahoney
Summary: You know that feeling when you’re sad and you don’t really know why and then you try and socialize to make that feeling disappear because usually that works, but instead you just get overwhelmed and it ends up being scary and awkward? Yeah, Yangyang knows.(or: Yangyang texts Hyuck in the middle of the night when they’ve only really met twice.)
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Liu Yang Yang
Series: step into my life [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2073603
Comments: 8
Kudos: 93





	sentimental pessimism

**Author's Note:**

> hey yall, I really wasn't planning on writing more for this ship, but here we are! lol
> 
> I guess it makes sense to read part one (mask on, fuck it, mask off) first, but it's not strictly necessary. there isn't much context needed anyway since this is just lots of talking and a couple of thoughts from Yangyang's perspective.
> 
> hope you enjoy! merry christmas to anyone who is celebrating and stay safe!

_hey r u still up?_

It’s 2:58 am when Yangyang sends the text. He sits huddled up under two thin blankets in his bed, so used to the inconvenience of not owning an actual duvet that he doesn’t care anymore. His roommate gave up on urging him to get one months ago, and without encouragement Yangyang just can’t be bothered. He is determined where he wants to be and careless where he doesn’t.

Right now, he cares a lot about something: everything, more precisely. The feeling is weird and unwelcome, however not unknown to him. _Weltschmerz_ , his literature teacher back in Germany used to call it – some sort of over-emotionality, a sadness and exasperation not rooted in personal experience, but rather the general state of life and the world. It doesn’t hit Yangyang often, so he is stuck in the irritating interstage of being familiar with the feeling, but not knowing how to deal with it. Just great.

For reasons he doesn’t fully understand either, he must have thought that texting Donghyuck in the middle of the night was a good idea four minutes ago. Now it’s 3:02 am and there is still no reply, which suddenly makes texting Donghyuck seem like the worst idea _ever_. Yangyang’s restless eyes dart across the room, taking in the sleeping form of his roommate Dejun on the opposite bed, who is looking peaceful in a way that is really hard to comprehend right now. A car honks outside. The water running through the old pipes of the student dorm heating gurgles quietly. Yangyang feels like crying, and he can’t put his finger on why.

Embarrassed about reaching out, he grabs his phone to delete the message and then never think about it ever again, just as his screen lights up with a notification.

_yeah, you okay?_

Well, so much for that. Tentatively opening the chat, he can see Donghyuck typing, then the other goes offline again. Yangyang holds in his breath and exhales with caution, all the while keeping a wary eye on the softly stirring Dejun, before he contemplates: am I okay? He stares at the message for another minute, unsure of what to reply. Then he receives an incoming call from Donghyuck.

Against his better judgement, Yangyang picks up and immediately mutes his speaker.

“Hush, gimme one sec”, he whispers close to the mic before disentangling himself from his sheets, grabbing his key and slipping out into the hallway. The bare soles of his feet already begin to suffer from contact with the freezing cold fake marble tiles after barely five seconds.

“Donghyuck, are you there?” Yangyang hisses quietly, speaker back on, tiptoeing back and forth in front of his door.

“Yeah, what is going on?” the voice on the other end of the line replies.

Like magic, the unique pitch of Donghyuck’s voice instantly has a small smile tugging on the corners of Yangyang’s lips. Although they only met up once since the dance workshop two weeks ago (for tteokbokki and a walk, always keeping at least a six foot distance), something about Donghyuck makes him feel at ease. To Yangyang, the other boy was both intriguing and endearing right from the start with his soft features and sharp wit. Kissing him was nice, too, and he kind of misses the feeling, which is stupid considering they really only did that once.

“I don’t know”, Yangyang says, speaking a comfortable half-truth.

The sigh coming through the speaker is accompanied with a soft spatter of technological interference.

“Well, okay. Where are you now?” Donghyuck asks simply.

“Um. In the hallway.”

“Okay. Did you just wake up, or have you been awake for long?”

Somehow, just answering straightforward questions is making the late-night conversation a lot easier than expected. Donghyuck sounds nonchalant and there is a continuous, soothing quality to his voice, which is pleasant, but Yangyang also feels the increasing need to clarify his state of mind.

“Donghyuck, I’m not having a panic attack or something.”

“That’s not what I was asking though”, comes the dry reply.

“Well, okay then, I haven’t been asleep yet.”

“And why is that?”

“I don’t know.” (Another half-truth.)

“Okay. Do you want to come over?”

Yangyang halts in the dark hallway, but resumes his restless skipping as his feet start to protest again. The offer comes unexpected, but then he thinks, maybe this is the reason why I suddenly felt like texting him in the first place.

“…yeah”, Yangyang says, and Donghyung chuckles warmly on the other end of the line.

The subway ride only takes about fifteen minutes. Yangyang quietly put on a pair of sneakers and snuck his coat out of the dorm room, also grabbing his earphones, wallet and toothbrush (a classic), and the entire scenario reminds him eerily of his pre-pandemic hookup routine. He pushes that thought away. Donghyuck texted him the address of an apartment building that looks more like a pricey hostel than a student dorm, but Yangyang has learnt not to judge a book by its cover when it comes to housing in Seoul, so he sends a quick text as soon as he reaches the front door.

After about ten seconds, Donghyuck buzzes him in. “Second floor”, his tinny voice informs Yangyang through the intercom. He is waiting up there in the doorframe, one hand pushing back his disheveled caramel hair, the black boxer-briefs and worn-out Overwatch shirt topped off with an inviting smile.

“Hey”, Donghyuck says and there is a trace of sleep in his voice.

“Hey”, Yangyang replies, successfully suppressing the mixture of emotions inside of him by focusing on the way Donghyuck is absentmindedly wetting his lips. His eyes look more hooded than usual, which is probably a result of the late hour, but it also gives him a certain bedroom eyes vibe that sends the tiniest shiver through Yangyang’s body.

“Try to be quiet until we’re in my room, okay?”

Yangyang nods and follows him through the dark corridor and into a dimly lit room on the right. Donghyuck closes the door behind them, and the air suddenly feels thick with tension. Neither of them says a word while Yangyang unzips his coat, but they maintain eye contact throughout the agonizingly slow process of dragging the small plastic fastener down, down, down. The instant the garment finally drops to the floor, they are already all over each other. Yangyang pushes Donghyuck against the wall and Donghyuck pushes his tongue down his throat. Yangyang pulls their hips flush together and Donghyuck pulls his hair in response. Feeling dizzy already, Yangyang lets out a frustrated moan as Donghyuck breaks their heated kiss to look into his eyes, dilated pupils betraying how much the situation is also affecting him. Still, he meets Yangyang’s gaze squarely and then pushes him back a couple of inches.

“This is hot”, Donghyuck whispers, breath heavy, “but I don’t think this is right.”

Slipping out from in between the wall and Yangyang’s lean body, Donghyuck keeps one arm around his waist as he drags him towards his bed.

“Sit down”, he orders and Yangyang obeys, confused and still turned on, a surge of panic welling up inside of him. Instead of going into lecture mode though, Donghyuck climbs on the bed and moves to sit behind Yangyang, pulling him securely against his chest.

“You don’t have to tell me what’s bothering you, I know we hardly know each other”, he murmurs into Yangyang’s nape, “but I can tell that something is on your mind and I don’t feel like fucking it out of your system.”

Ouch. As if someone had poked a tiny hole into an inflatable mattress, Yangyang feels the tension seeping out of his body and slowly molds back against the warmth behind him. His previously suppressed urge to cry is gradually resurfacing and he doesn’t like that strange vulnerability at all.

“Sorry”, he says, quiet and scared to disappoint. Donghyuck starts playing with his hair.

“It’s okay.”

They fall silent for a while and Yangyang’s eyes follow the way their legs stretch out alongside one another, his own skinny and clad in black jeans, Donghyuck’s naked and warm and golden. His left hand traces the expanse of muscular thigh down to the knee and there he stops, wondering how the hell he ended up in this situation. Donghyuck breathes evenly, still carding his fingers through Yangyang’s black strands.

“…the day we met, it was actually my birthday.”

Yangyang doesn’t know why he just blurts it out. It is true, but he wasn’t planning on bringing it up, because why would he? It’s not a big deal, he reminds himself, already regretting the pointless confession. Donghyuck on the other hand seems to think differently, judging from the way his body stiffens in surprise.

“Really? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because, I don’t know, why would I randomly announce that it’s my birthday?”

“Well, because it’s your birthday??” Donghyuck sounds genuinely upset. “Fuck, I could have treated you to dinner! We even hung out after, seriously, I feel so stupid now. You spent time with me on your birthday and I didn’t even know about it. How old are you now?”

“Twenty-one in Korea.” Yangyang hesitates, slightly intimidated by Donghyuck’s passionate reaction. “Just, don’t worry about it. You don’t have to treat me to anything.”

“I know I don’t _have_ to, but I want to! Treating you is my personal choice, and I live to choose freely.”

This is ridiculous, Yangyang thinks, but his mood is gently lifted by about half an inch. Baby steps. He still doesn’t get it, though.

“Um, it’s fine. Why does it bother you so much?”

“Because I obviously like you??” Donghyuck snaps and then wiggles out of their hold, crouching down in front of Yangyang and looking at him with irritation written across his face. The soft yellow light from the floor lamp in the corner reflects off his tan skin prettily. “I don’t invite just anyone over to my flat at 3 am, you know.”

Yangyang doesn’t know, but it feels really good to hear those words from Donghyuck. Another half inch up on the mood barometer. The intensity of the other boy’s gaze makes him avert his eyes and hug his knees to his chest in an unusual display of shyness.

“Seriously, Yangyang, what’s up? I swear on my Overwatch shirt that I won’t judge.”

The way Donghyuck is clasping his hands in a mock gesture of sincerity raises a small smile from Yangyang as he looks back up. An expression comes to his mind that he hasn’t used in ages.

„ _Bisschen Kopfschmerz, bisschen Weltschmerz_ ”, he hums mysteriously and he knows he is being annoying, so he quickly adds an explanation. „That’s German, and it means something like a little headache, and also a vague ache because of the world. Kinda sentimental pessimism. I like that expression a lot.”

“What, you’re a poet now?” Donghyuck asks, playfulness returning to his voice.

Yangyang shakes his head softly, and counts another two inches.

“Don’t think so. Sorry, I’m in a really weird mood.”

“I’ve noticed, and I don’t mind.” Donghyuck pats the mattress. “Let’s lay down, I’m fucking tired.”

And with that, he flops back into his pillows and Yangyang kind of just follows. Donghyuck traces patterns on the back of his legs for a while, then moving up to his shoulder blades, and Yangyang lets his guard down a little further with every careful press of warm fingertips. The way Donghyuck is humming softly to himself once again reminds Yangyang of how much he likes his voice and he is beginning to feel a little sleepy. There really is nothing judgmental about Donghyuck at all, he muses, finally giving in to his impulse to turn around and snuggle into his chest.

Donghyuck sighs in approval.

“If you wanna get cozy, I’d ask you to take off your skinny jeans first, and I’m definitely asking this from a cozy and not from a sexy perspective.”

Another genuine smile spreads across Yangyang’s face slowly, and he sits up to peel off his pants and sweater before slipping under the covers next to Donghyuck. The other boy has closed his eyes in the meantime, and the cute little pout on his peaceful face looks positively angelic. Suddenly, a thought crosses Yangyang’s mind.

“Will your flatmates mind if I stay over?”

“Nah. I’ve already asked them about having you over last week because of, well, covid, and they said it’d be fine.”

“You what??”

“I’ve already asked them. It’s the responsible thing to do”, Donghyuck murmurs sleepily.

“They know about me?”

“Uh, yeah? Don’t know if you noticed, but I’m kind of crushing on you?”

Yangyang opens his mouth, then closes it again like a fish out of water. Once he must have realized that he isn’t going to get a reply, Donghyuck latches onto his body and buries his nose in Yangyang’s neck. The warmth is welcome.

“For God’s sake, I’ve literally texted you every day for two weeks, what did you expect?”

“I- I don’t know”, Yangyang says, a tingling sensation slowly spreading through his nervous system from all the places in which their bodies touch.

“God”, Donghyuck breathes, voice muffled. “You are so dumb. Hot and dumb. Sleep now.” Then he bites down on the soft skin just below Yangyang’s hairline, sending a jolt of electricity all the way down his back. Yangyang reaches his hand backwards to squeeze his thigh.

“It’s hot that you’re kind of unpredictable”, he whispers, sleep and subconscious excitement fogging up his mind.

“I knoooow”, Donghyuck slurs. “Fuck, Yangyang, I’m so tired, stop talking.”

“I think I wanna make out with you again?”

“Shut up.”

Donghyuck snakes his hand underneath Yangyang’s shirt to rest it on his stomach while whispering something that sounds suspiciously like “abs”, but the humor in that goes unnoticed as a deep, dreamless sleep finally sweeps the two of them away.

When Yangyang wakes up just about five hours later, that is due to some shithead barging in carelessly through the door whilst shouting “Hyuck, seriously stop hogging my red Supreme beanie, I’ve told you like four times this week – oh.“

“Mark Lee, fuck you”, a waking Donghyuck moans into the pillow, and Yangyang focuses his eyes on a hot guy with a small face and amazing cheekbones standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.

“Uh, sorry”, the guy, Mark, says and then moves precariously to pick up a red beanie from the desk. “You forgot to turn the floor lamp off. Anyway, sorry.”

He leaves and quietly closes the door, and then Yangyang is hit by the realization that he indeed stayed over at Donghyuck’s place last night.

“Oh my God, I hate him, did he at least turn off the fucking lamp, why”, Donghyuck mutters next to him, and Yangyang giggles, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He can hear the sound of two people laughing ecstatically in the hallway and it feels kinda intimate and just really… nice. Then Donghyuck wraps his arms and legs around Yangyang to pull him close and that feels even nicer, so he giggles again.

Peeking out from underneath the covers, Donghyuck sneaks a curious glance at him.

“That’s quite the change of mood compared to yesterday?”

Yangyang’s face turns pink in embarrassment. “Sorry, yeah. I was really weird last night, thanks for putting up with me. Was that your flatmate?”

“Yeah, Mark, the literal opposite of nonchalance. The other voice you hear is Renjun, the third one. Don’t be fooled by his soft demeanor, he’s the most sarcastic person I know.”

“I won’t”, Yangyang says, and then: “You look really cute.”

Donghyuck stares at him and in disbelief and shakes his head, messy wisps of hair falling into his eyes. Cute.

“What kind of wicked duality is this? Yesterday you’re like uhh yeah sentimental pessimism, and now you’re looking like the morning sun personified and handing out compliments?”

“Well, usually people tell me that my duality is a constant alternation between cute and sexy”, Yangyang replies with a smirk.

Donghyuck bursts out laughing, then pulls him in by his neck.

“Please make out with me now”, he whispers against the hollow of Yangyang’s cheek, voice still a little raspy with sleep, and he really doesn’t have to ask twice. Turning his head and grazing Donghyuck’s lips softly with his own, Yangyang earns an approving hum. In the light of the actual morning sun he contemplates counting the moles trailing down Donghyuck’s neck, and he dips his head down to playfully lick a small one he finds particularly endearing. He thinks, I’m glad I’m not the only one crushing. He also thinks he should let Donghyuck know that, but then the other boy scratches Yangyang’s scalp with his nails and pulls his lower lip with his teeth just slightly, and they both kind of forget about talking for a while.

Later, Yangyang decides, there will be time for that later. (And in making this decision, he allows himself to be glad he texted Donghyuck last night, and he allows himself to look forward to figuring things out together.)

When he emerges from Donghyuck’s room with flushed cheeks and wet lips to get a glass of water from the kitchen, both Mark and Renjun are there. The latter gives a low wolf whistle before offering him a cup of coffee, and Yangyang, back to his confident self, accepts with a grin. He also finds that he has missed a total of sixteen calls from Dejun, which is both sweet and alarming, so he sends a reassuring text to let his roommate know that he won’t be home for dinner tonight, either. The text reads as follows:

_sorry dejun, im safe and cared for by a hot guy, details later. see u tomorrow, im finally getting my bday dinner tonight_

**Author's Note:**

> yay, thank you so much for reading <3  
> as always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated.
> 
> (a quick thought: as a generally happy extrovert, I find it hard to allow myself to be sad sometimes because "that's not how people know me/why people like me", which is just really dumb. everyone battles feelings of sadness and I thought that someone as cute and smiley as Yangyang probably does, too, from time to time.
> 
> by the way, for anyone who speaks German and is now wondering whether “bisschen Kopfschmerz, bisschen Weltschmerz” is a commonly used expression, I don’t think so. I once texted my boyfriend asking why he wasn’t feeling well, and that was his reply. I mean honestly, it’s a whole mood sometimes haha)


End file.
